[Heroes are meant to die]
The rough burlap bag brushed against his cheeks, irritating the small cut on the right side of his face.
Daryl couldn't see much of anything, but there was a small yellow glow that managed to penetrate the bag over his head. Two pairs of arms gripped both of his muscled arms, keeping him from going anywhere.
Though he couldn't see, he could damn well hear. The noise was quiet at first, more of a discontent buzzing than anything else. But then a man started talking and the peoples' murmuring almost stopped altogether.
"What can I say? There hasn't been a night like this since the walls were completed. And I thought we were past it. Past the days when we all sat huddled, scared in front of the TV during the early days of the outbreak." The man's voice was deep and Daryl could tell from the silence from the crowd, that the people respected this man. Was this man the governor; the one that Michonne had spoken of? He didn't know, and frankly, Daryl didn't want to find out.
"The fear we all felt then, we felt it again tonight." A quiet murmur came from the people, as they agreed with him. Daryl wondered what the Governor meant by that; there was no "safe" place.
"I failed you." The words were low and the man paused. "I promised to keep you safe. Hell, look at me." There was another pause from the man.
"I should tell you that we'll be okay, that we're safe, that tomorrow we'll bury our dead and endure, but I won't. Cause I can't. Cause I'm afraid…That's right. I'm afraid of terrorists who want what we have." His voice rose and grew stronger.
Daryl jerked against the men that held him. He didn't like where this speech was going. With simple words, this man was bending the crowd to his will. Daryl knew that the people would do anything this charismatic man asked of them.
"They want to destroy us or worse…One of those terrorists is one of our own." The crowds' murmuring rose as they talked among themselves.
Daryl frowned. What did the man mean? No one from inside the town had helped them. The only person that had helped them had been Michonne and she had disappeared once they were inside.
The man spoke again, this time shouting out the words. "Merle! The man I counted on, the man I trusted. He led them here! He let them in." Daryl's breathe quickened and he felt an ache in his chest. His brother was out there, just within his grasp.
Daryl tried to rip his arms out of the men's grips again, this time receiving a blow to his stomach, making him double over.
The two men on either side of him started to walk forward, pushing him with them, as he gasped for breath.
Daryl stumbled forward, his body still doubled over. He struggled in their grasps, his breath coming out in loud huffs. The two men suddenly shoved him away and Daryl stumbled forward blindly.
The man's voice came from Daryl's right as he spoke again, "It was you! You lied, betrayed us all!" There was a slight pause from the man before he spoke again, "This is one of the terrorists." Daryl felt a hand brush against his bicep, and he tried to twitch away, but the hand came again, this time taking a firmer grip on Daryl's bare arm.
Daryl shivered at the touch, suddenly afraid of what was going to happen to him.
A hand grabbed ahold of the top of Daryl's hood and in one swift motion the bag was ripped off. Daryl whipped his head to the side, blinking rapidly in the sudden light.
"Merle's own brother!" The man that held his arm roared to the crowd.
Daryl's eyes flickered wildly from side to side, before they finally focused on Merle. For a second, both brothers stared at each other; Merle with something that was close to concern and Daryl with his defiance fading away, fear taking its place.
The man, who Daryl now guessed to be the Governor, shoved him away. Daryl stumbled to the other side of Merle, his eyes still on his older brother.
Daryl couldn't stop moving his feet. He felt like he was caged in, which in a way he was. Though, his eyes stayed focused on Merle.
The Governor circled around Daryl, still looking at the crowd of people that encircled the dirt arena. He stepped in between the brothers, forcing Daryl to break eye contact with Merle. Daryl's gaze followed the Governor as he called out, "What should we do with them?"
There was almost no pause before a voice from the crowd shouted out. "Kill them!" Daryl looked to where the voice was, fear clawing at his chest. He took a deep breath.
"What?" The Governor shouted as more people joined in screaming for Merle and Daryl to die.
Daryl felt useless with his hands tied behind his back and as he looked out into the sea of faces he knew that he would find no mercy among these people. He was going to die.
"What do you want?!" The Governor shouted again, this time raising both his hands up, Daryl's hood still clutched in one hand.
The people continued to scream out, shaking their fists at Daryl with hate in their eyes. Daryl twisted his head around, taking a quick glance at Merle.
Daryl finally stopped stumbling around, his chest heaving from the fear and adrenaline that pumped through him. He swayed from side to side, standing near his brother.
The Governor sauntered up to Merle, ignoring Daryl for the moment.
"You wanted your brother." He said lowly to Merle. "Now ya got him." A small smirk, quirked on the Governor's lips and Daryl knew at that moment that he was going to die alongside Merle.
The Governor turned on his heel and slowly walked away from Daryl and Merle.
Daryl looked over to Merle, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't keep the fear from his eyes and silently he pleaded with Merle,
Big Brother, save me.
A/N: I really wanted to write about what Daryl was thinking in that arena so this is what I came up with. But I don't think I did the scene justice because there is so much emotion in the way that Daryl looks at Merle. I don't think that I captured it, but I tried my best.